Eleventh Hour
by Tiggyblink
Summary: Pittencream was the last man to volunteer to travel on the Dawn Treader to the very end of the world, and was left behind because of his hesitation. But what about the second to last man?


The Eleventh Hour  
  
Well, I can tell you, I'm more than a little ashamed of the man I was before I left. Only, it was so long before I knew I had anything to be ashamed of, not until it was almost the very end. I'll begin at the beginning; only I do wish I had realized earlier. What might that journey have been if I had been a better man when I took it?  
My name, you see, is Teledal-- and yes, I was one of those sailors on the Dawn Treader who went to the end of the world and came back, and yes, I was in all those stories that are told all over the free lands. But there is a part of the story that is seldom told. The sailors who were with me keep it quiet out of shame, and our masters-- well, it's not quite the sort of thing they'd tell about another man. They're not low like that, if you understand.  
Everyone knows how we, the crew of the Dawn Treader, reached the Isle of Ramandu, and his beautiful daughter, now our good Queen, and that from there we sailed to the end of the world, and Sir Reepicheep went on in his coracle to Aslan's Country as I, for one, certainly believe. But there's this: none of us wanted to go. Not at first. We got to that island and the King and King Edmund and Queen Lucy and all of them were all for going on to the very end. But us, the regular men, the hired sailors, we weren't so pleased at the idea, not at first. For you see, we weren't sure we'd be coming back, and that's a thought as will turn a man's stomach, and he may think twice before he goes jumping into a situation that he might not be able to get back out of.  
But then the King, he went and made a speech, so as to make us see that it was an honor to be chosen to see the end, and that maybe we wouldn't be wanted, and it was something that we ought to be competing for. Well some of them changed their tune straight off, and then more and more.  
But not me. I was afraid, terribly and mortally afraid; I was so afraid that the King's speech, and a half of the crew going over to his side couldn't shame me into changing my mind. And then more and more of them started signing up for the thing, and then it came down to me and Pittencream being the only ones left who didn't want to go.  
And I buckled, you know. I never stopped being afraid, not for a moment, but when it came down to just two of us (and those terrible, beautiful eyes, the Queen's eyes, looking at me and seeing, I'm sure, all my squirming soul) I was shamed enough and put down my name. Pittencream did, too, at last, after I did it, but they didn't take him. He was too late and they didn't take him, and they took me.  
They took me, and we went. We got on that ship, all of us, and looking back there was Ramandu and our Queen and old Pittencream looking sort of pasty, and then off we went. Well, I felt sick for the first time in my life. All those days, getting brighter and brighter, and wonders all around us, but all I could do was feel as though-- well, rather like I'd swallowed an egg whole and it was sitting there on my chest all heavy like. And to see all those around me brightening too, just like the air and the water was doing, and feeling that I was the only one too afeared to be getting lighter, it made it that much worse. Someone told me after that I had been brightening just like the rest, but I didn't feel it, I didn't feel it!  
As I say, it got worse and worse, till I felt I must pitch myself off the ship and into the water and drown myself, for I was getting to think I could stand death more than I could stand going on fearing it, and just when I had nearly made up my mind to it, demmed if that Sir Reepicheep didn't go and fall overboard. There was a great scuffle, and we got him up and he told us that the water was sweet. The King lowered a bucket and brought some up and he and Queen Lucy both drank from it and-- ah! But it's useless to try to describe. How they did light up though! They tried themselves, to say what it was like, but in the end the only thing was for each of us to have a drink of the water ourselves. And, oh! If you can imagine, if you can think, how much I wanted it! For they did grow so like stars themselves when they drank it, the King and Queen Lucy! But then, even though I'd been thinking of drowning myself in that very same water, I was too terribly afraid to drink it, because as I said, all this time I'd seen the others getting brighter and stronger and felt no change in myself at all. And so, the whole time that all my shipmates were taking drinks of that water by turn, I kept thinking 'What if I drink and nothing happens?' And I felt that I couldn't bear it if that happened. For I was perfectly aching by now to be like the others, and to have all the squirming coward just taken out of me, but I couldn't get rid of it, however hard I tried. And I was sure that if anything could save me from myself, it would be this water. I so I dreaded it-- because I was afraid it wouldn't save me, and then there would be no escape from my own miserable Self. So when it came to be my turn, I almost said I wouldn't drink. I almost refused. But then I thought something like-- "Well, if I am such a thing, then I might as well face up to it!" And I wasn't sure what I meant, and I just drank deep from that bucket with my eyes shut tight. And believe me when I tell you, it was the hardest thing I ever did.  
How can I say it? Everything changed and-- nothing changed. I can't say how it was, and I won't try. Only, I was very quiet after that, (and I think everyone else was as well) and nobody really felt like eating anymore. The King said something about it being like drinking light, and that's as near as anyone ever got to saying it. I'm no man of letters myself, and I won't try to best him in that.  
But can you understand? I began, just then, to be able to see things clearly. I saw myself for the cringing thing I was-- saw that all the things I thought I had done out of courage or kindness or generosity or mercy or anything else good had been done out of pride or vanity or even just plain fear of shame. Done so that I could think well of myself, or have others think it, and I saw-- well I won't tell you all the things I finally realized about myself, but just that I really started seeing my real Self for the first time. And it was worse than I had ever known. But that wasn't all, for I found that I could bear it. And that I could choose- - do you understand? I could choose to be different! Do you see? I had hope. And so... and so... well, I can't tell you so well about it as His Majesty could do, maybe.  
But listen, what was different was how the world seemed to me. We returned to Ramandu's island, but everything seemed better, more beautiful, and like I was seeing it for the first time. But not just wonders like that: the faces of the men around me, the decks of the ship, my own hands, the sky, air, water, things I had always know, or thought I had always know, seemed to be new to me. I thought for a while that everything had changed, but as we sailed westward, closer and closer to home, and had time to think about it, I began to see that it was my eyes that had been changed. So many years, so many years I spent looking at the world through the darkness of my own heart, and so things seemed dark and fearful to me. All my life Joy has been calling out to me and I have been stopping my ears to its voice. Anyway, all the way back, though I was seeing all the same things that I had seen on the way there, I found that everything and everyone looked... better. More beautiful.  
And it is like that even now. Your faces, your voices, as plain and simple as ever they were, but now I see the beauty that was always in them.  
So through this joy, this new joy which has been granted to me, I have one regret: that I allowed so many of my years to go by denying myself all that grace. It was, perhaps, some sort of sin; a sin against Him. He provided me with all this glory, all around, and I shut my eyes and blamed Him in my heart for the darkness.  
But even that is all right. I learned that too, you see. He isn't just the Lord of Beauty. He is also the Lord of Second Chances. So I think that despite all my stupidity, I may yet be forgiven.  
  
A/N: Well, I'm still not satisfied with this one at all, but I've been working at it for so long now that I really can't read it objectively anymore. So please, all concrit is warmly welcomed. 


End file.
